


No Time Like the First Time

by stardropdream



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), First Time, Fluff and Smut, Laughter During Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Season/Series 07, Season 8 Doesn't Exist, Sexual Roleplay, Top Keith (Voltron), Touch-Starved Shiro (Voltron), Virgin Keith (Voltron), Virginity Kink, Virginity Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:14:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23144530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: “But be gentle with me, Keith, it’s my first time," Shiro teases. He punctuates the words with a stupid flutter of his eyelashes. He expects Keith to snort, laugh, and roll his eyes again.Instead, Keith ducks his head andmoans,“Fuck.”Shiro’s eyes widen. “Oh.”“Don’t ‘oh’ me,” Keith mutters, face red. “What?”Or: Keith's into virginity kink and Shiro is more than happy to oblige.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 86
Kudos: 377





	No Time Like the First Time

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this fic for Bottom Shiro Week, but sadly didn't have time to edit and post it... but whatever, every week can be Bottom Shiro Week if you believe hard enough (or something)!!
> 
> Anyway, this was a fic idea I've sat on for a while: Keith's the one with the virginity kink. It escalated from there into some (hopefully playfully) bad roleplay and sappy saps in love. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> (And thank you to [Meg](https://twitter.com/kedawen) for the beta read!)

“Mmm,” Shiro sighs as Keith deepens their kiss. 

Truthfully, he’d just keep kissing Keith until the end of time if he could feasibly get away with it. He’s obsessed with the feeling of Keith in his arms, the soft breath of their mouths pressed together. He could just stay like this for eternity, laying worship to Keith with teeth and tongue and breath, spending the rest of his life devoted to drawing these sounds from Keith. 

Like now. When Shiro does a particular sweep of his tongue, Keith just whimpers. He clings to Shiro, as if determined to touch every inch of him, as if sucking Shiro’s tongue into his mouth might keep them pressed flush together forever. 

Shiro tips back just a little to catch his breath, though he’s loath to do so. “Hey—” 

“No, come back.” Keith drags Shiro back in. 

“Keith,” Shiro laughs as Keith dives back in with that enthusiasm, licking Shiro’s lips before biting at his mouth, seeking him closer still. “Keith—” 

“Hrn,” Keith grunts. He presses in, all squirmy and eager.

Shiro can’t exactly blame him. Shiro knows how the night’s progressing: they’re half-dressed and he can tell Keith’s hard every time they squirm together. Shiro knows they’re both ready for that, knows they’ve already waited so long for this. 

Shiro slides his hands down to grip Keith by his ass, kneading and pulling him in closer. Keith makes a garbled sound, pleased, and rocks forward. The heat between them builds, heady and needy, and Shiro _wants._

Keith seems content to swallow Shiro’s breath, rocking his hips forward so his cock ruts against Shiro’s, only the thin fabric of their underwear separating them. It sends shocks of pleasure tingling through Shiro’s body, especially when Keith’s nimble and sure hand drags over Shiro’s stomach and down, slipping beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs and palming at his cock. 

There’s no hesitation to Keith’s touch, which has always been his way— pushing forward and ready to take what he wants. Even that thought alone, in this context, would be enough to make Shiro achingly hard. Coupled with the deft twist of Keith’s sure, nimble fingers and Shiro’s a goner. He moans as his cock twitches in interest. 

He feels Keith’s triumphant smirk against his mouth, fingers tracing the long length of Shiro’s cock, feeling him out and memorizing the very shape of him. 

“Want to—” Keith whispers and squeezes Shiro’s cock. It makes Shiro suck in a sharp, pleased breath, shuddering.

Everything feels new to Shiro ever since returning to his body. Shiro’s not surprised; it’s been a while for him. And in addition to that, Shiro realizes, this is technically the first time this body’s been touched like this. Keith’s hand on his cock, stroking him gently as he hardens, is the first hand to ever touch him here, like this, right now. Some days, even sight and touch and smell and sound are far too much— but he still has memories of doing this long before Keith’s fingers, Keith’s mouth. It’s a strange sort of paradox, to remember but to feel it as if new.

Somehow, Shiro likes that thought— that Keith’s the first one, the only one. He’s never put stock or care into that before, about himself or his partners, and yet it’s pleasant to think that, thanks to Keith, he got something like a reset button.

It makes sense. The rest of his life is thanks to Keith and he wants to devote his life to Keith. No matter what, Keith is his first. His greatest. 

The thought itself, the feel of Keith’s hand on his straining cock, is enough for Shiro to break the kiss with a light gasp, shuddering as he rocks up into Keith’s hand. 

Keith tilts his head as he watches him, his eyes glittering. “You’re so sensitive.” 

He sounds wondering, like he can’t believe it, like he can’t believe it’s Shiro he’s touching. Shiro smiles up at him, feeling overwhelmed, and runs his hands up from Keith’s ass to trace over his back. He feels every little dip and curve of Keith’s body, every little nudge of a scar, the line of a muscle. Keith is beautiful— Keith is a masterpiece and Shiro still can’t believe he gets to touch him. 

“You make me feel good, babe,” Shiro teases with a wink. 

Keith laughs, blushes, and then rolls his eyes. “You sap.” 

He punctuates the words with a squeeze of his hand around Shiro’s cock and it makes Shiro bite his lip and suck in a pleased breath. 

“Keith,” he whispers and knows he sounds reverent, knows that it does things to Keith to hear his name like that— the way he swells with pride, the way his eyes turn molten and dark. 

When he kisses Shiro, it’s sweeter than before, but heavy with promise. He lays worship to Shiro with his mouth, his smile a quiet vow as he sucks on Shiro’s bottom lip and then sweeps his tongue in. Shiro sighs and rises to meet him, running his hands over Keith’s body. 

“Fuck,” Keith whispers when he keeps touching Shiro and just the lightest squeezes and presses of his fingers are enough to make Shiro shudder. “You’re _so_ sensitive.” 

“I’m not usually,” Shiro admits. When Keith grunts in confusion, Shiro nuzzles against Keith’s jaw, pressing a smattering of kisses there. “I think it’s just— new body, new sensation kind of thing.” 

“Oh,” Keith says, blinking once as he draws back to study Shiro in this new context. His nimble fingers hook around Shiro’s boxer briefs and yanks them down, leaving Shiro naked and lying on the bed with a shy smile. Keith considers for a moment, puzzling, and then asks, “Is— it’s not a bad thing, is it? I’m not hurting you?” 

Shiro shakes his head. “It’s nice.” When Keith hums again, his cheeks flushing pink, Shiro wriggles beneath him, trying to coax the hand back around his cock. He reaches for Keith’s cock in turn, his hand a loose circle around him as he teases, “But be gentle with me, Keith, it’s my first time.” 

He punctuates the words with a stupid flutter of his eyelashes. He expects Keith to snort, laugh, and roll his eyes again. He expects Keith to squeeze his cock and call him ridiculous. 

Instead, Keith’s cock visibly twitches in Shiro’s hand, plumped up and achingly hard. Keith ducks his head and _moans,_ “Fuck.” 

Shiro’s eyes widen. “Oh.” 

“Don’t ‘oh’ me,” Keith mutters, face red. “What?” 

“Keith,” Shiro says, sitting up so he can reach for Keith properly, cupping his face with a grin he barely manages to muffle before kissing Keith’s pouting lips. “You _like_ that idea, huh?” 

“Shut up.” 

Shiro chuckles and accepts the flurry of kisses Keith presses to his grinning mouth, some vain attempt to shut Shiro up. It doesn’t quite work, but Shiro’s never going to deny himself the pleasure of kissing Keith. He’s spent too long wanting to and now he gets to— he’s never going to deny himself again. 

When Keith draws back, he bumps his forehead lightly against Shiro’s in a gentle thump that’s less headbutt and more nuzzle. Keith huffs a breath, cheeks pink, and keens quietly when Shiro strokes his cock, squeezing his hand around him. 

“Now who’s the sensitive one?” Shiro teases, his voice feather-light and honey-sweet. 

Keith huffs and his eyelashes do that fluttery thing Shiro loves, proof that Keith wants to close his eyes and just feel the sensation but doesn’t want to stop looking at Shiro. 

“I, um,” Keith says, licking his lips. “You— you know I’ve…” 

Shiro presses in to kiss him again sweetly. “Have you done this before?” 

Keith blushes deeper and shakes his head. He knocks his forehead to Shiro’s again with a low grumble. He stares into his eyes, intense and pointed and just for Shiro. “You know I haven’t.” 

“So I’m your first.” 

“Yes,” Keith agrees without a shred of embarrassment.

Shiro didn’t realize that this would be a thing for him but that’s the only way he can explain the zing of pleasure that pulses down his spine. He smiles, helpless, and watches Keith’s mouth quirk into a little smile. 

“You’re a lot of my firsts,” Keith says quietly. 

Shiro smiles, his heart feeling full in his chest. He’ll never know what he’s done to earn Keith’s devotion and he’ll never stop being grateful that Keith’s given him his heart. 

He wants to be all of Keith’s firsts— he wants to be Keith’s forever. He wants to be everything to Keith.

But, Shiro realizes, he wants all his own firsts to be Keith’s, too. 

He kisses Keith then, sweet and slow. Keith sighs, sinking against him, and it’s easy to focus on just that— on holding Keith, on kissing him, on being here with him. Shiro’s never going to get tired of that, never going to get over the fact that he gets to have this. That he’s here, and he’s alive, and he’s in Keith’s arms. 

He pulls away from the kiss with a small smile, brushing the hair away from Keith’s face, his thumb skimming along his jaw. 

“You’re so beautiful.”

Keith blinks a few times, his eyes looking misty for half a second before he ducks his head with a laugh. He nudges his shoulder against Shiro’s and then flops against him, nuzzling at his jaw and kissing his cheek.

“Sap,” Keith says again, voice thrumming with love. 

“Mmm, maybe,” Shiro agrees and kisses Keith’s face in little bursts, nuzzling their noses together and then dropping his forehead to rest against Keith’s. Keith stares into his eyes, dark and cosmic. “Hey…” 

“What?” 

“In a way, this is my first time, too,” Shiro says and watches the way Keith’s eyes darken further. 

“Shiro—” 

“I mean it,” Shiro insists, taking Keith’s hand and guiding it back down to touch his cock, where he’s hard and pressing against his belly, a bead of his precome glistening at the tip. Keith’s thumb swipes across the crown and then works down, the touch both determined and absent, as if it’s just instinctual that he’d touch Shiro like this, that he’d make Shiro feel good. 

And it does feel good. Pinpricks of pleasure shoot through his body just from the tingling touch of Keith’s palm against his sensitive skin. 

Shiro hums at Keith’s expression, caught between desire and devastating. He noses against Keith’s cheek and kisses the corner of his mouth, trailing his lips gently across his skin in a slow drag, all the way up to his ear. 

Once there, he whispers, “I want you to be my last first time, Keith.” 

Keith shivers in his arms and it’s perfect, the way his eyes flutter, the way his breath hitches in a small gasp. Keith’s hand squeezes around Shiro’s cock and Shiro rolls his hips up into that touch, seeking that friction. 

“ _Shiro._ ” 

“Come on, baby,” Shiro murmurs, coaxing, “Treat me well. I’ve never done this before.” 

Keith blinks at him owlishly and Shiro feels his dick twitch where it’s pressed between them. It’s how Shiro knows he’s said the right thing, knows he hasn’t mistaken Keith’s interest in the idea. 

“You’re so perfect,” Shiro continues, leaning back a bit and pulling Keith along with him. “If anyone were going to show me how to do this, I want it to be you.” 

Keith’s brow furrows as he locks onto what it is that Shiro’s doing, and then his blush blooms wildhearted and fiery red across his cheeks and ears. 

“ _Oh,_ ” he gasps like it’s been punched out of him. And then his smile curls up at the corner, more smirk than shy. “Yeah, Shiro. I’ll show you how it’s done. I’ll take care of you.”

“You always do,” Shiro says, and that’s the truth— always and in all things: Keith takes care of Shiro. 

“This is so stupid,” Keith whispers as he strokes over Shiro’s cock, corkscrewing his hand. 

Shiro laughs. “That’s not a nice thing to say, Keith. I’m so shy.” 

Keith rolls his eyes, but his smile belies his amusement and interest. His cock is so hard, such a pretty flushed color against his stomach, that familiar hint of Galra purple at the ruddy head. Shiro loves that, wants to spend hours just staring at Keith, naked and beautiful. He wants to commit every moment to memory— to always remember how good this feels. 

Shiro sweeps his hands over Keith’s body, touching him and enjoying the delicious drag of his fingertips against Keith’s skin. It’s luxurious. It feels infinite. 

“Let me—” Shiro begins.

But he’s interrupted when Keith pushes him back, hands on his shoulders and guiding Shiro backwards, splaying him out on the bed. Keith kneels between Shiro’s legs, bent at the knees, and huffs down at him. 

“No,” Keith says. “I want you to lie there and I want you to let me take care of you.” 

Shiro can’t help his little laugh, disbelieving and _turned on_ by yet another casual display of Keith’s strength, the way he pushes Shiro down and holds him there. He blushes and then just grins up at Keith. 

“Yes, sir,” he says, far more hushed and far huskier than he’d intended. It’s worth it to see how Keith’s face turns an even brighter red. 

“You’re a menace,” Keith mutters.

Shiro winks. “Just excited to be with the most gorgeous man in the universe.” 

“God,” Keith says, but grins as he turns away, swiping the pile of their clothes from the bed and reaching for the lube.

Despite the fact that’s really Keith’s first time, he moves smooth as silk, every inch of him exuding confidence. Shiro is helpless against it, lying back and simply watching him. Keith looks perfectly at ease and at home between Shiro’s legs. He pushes the hair away from his face with a deep breath, then opens the cap on the lube with his thumb. 

Shiro wants to write poetry about how good Keith looks just squirting the gel onto his fingers and slicking himself up. It’s mundane but there’s a heat to it, the methodical way Keith does all things. His hair flips back into his eyes again and he puffs air upward to flick the strands away again. 

Once he’s finished slicking his fingers, one hand falls to Shiro’s stomach. Shiro shivers at the slipping feeling of the lube against his skin. 

“Cold,” he explains when Keith hums at him. 

Keith laughs and says, with perfect seriousness: “It feels weird if you’re not used to it.” 

Shiro chuckles and bats his eyelashes up at Keith. “I trust you. Everything with you will be good.” 

He’s not pretending when he says as much, even if his tone takes on a saccharine note, just because he knows what Keith will say— _sap, you sap_. Truthfully, Shiro doesn’t really remember his first time; he knows he should, he knows it’s supposedly important. All he remembers now is being probably too young, too fumbling, too unsure. 

That time doesn’t matter with Keith towering above him with his broad shoulders and his little waist, his kiss-swollen lips and his wild hair. There’s only Keith. _Keith_ is his first time, the only time that matters. 

He’s going to be with Keith forever. All he wants to do is memorize every move he makes. That’s what matters and that’s what Shiro wants to remember. 

He spreads his legs without the least bit of subtlety. Keith grins at him.

“Impatient,” Keith coos and drags his palm down over Shiro’s stomach to grip his cock again, giving him a few shallow pumps as his slicked fingers drag over his balls and back between his legs, seeking out his hole. 

“Do you know—” Shiro begins, wanting to guide him despite himself; old habits die hard, in the end. 

Keith gives him a pointed look as he swipes his fingertips across Shiro’s hole, teasing and purposeful. He presses one tip into Shiro’s hole, tugging at the rim, and it’s simple and satisfying and pleasure sparks through Shiro’s body. 

“I’m the one teaching you,” Keith tells him, voice growly and low and pleased by Shiro’s reaction. 

Shiro laughs. “Then teach me, big boy.”

“ _Shiro,_ ” Keith groans, embarrassed and aroused at once. Shiro loves all the sounds Keith makes. He never wants to stop hearing them. 

And really, Shiro should have known better than to doubt if Keith knows what to do, and he feels his cock twitch at the image of Keith working himself open, knows now that whenever Keith did so, he was thinking of _Shiro_. 

He lifts his hips pointedly, lifting one hand to grip Keith’s bicep, just to feel the flex and pull of Keith’s body— how powerful he is, how good he is, how gentle and kind and beautiful.

“Keith,” he sighs. 

Keith ducks down and kisses Shiro just as he presses two fingers up inside him. The angle’s a bit off, a different feeling from when Shiro touches himself. Shiro makes a sound caught between pleasure and discomfort. 

He squirms a little and it makes Keith hesitate. Shiro feels it, the moment when Keith starts to withdraw his hand. He fumbles, waffling, and Shiro’s sure if he were to open his eyes, Keith’s face would be pinched in concern. 

Smoothly, Shiro reaches down for Keith’s wrist and turns him, guiding the fingers inside him to hit the right angle. 

“Move slowly,” Shiro whispers into the kiss. “Right there, beautiful.” 

Keith does as instructed, stroking his fingers up with a little twisting flourish. Pleasure sings in Shiro’s blood and he sighs out happily, arching into the kiss. He deepens it luxuriously, just focusing on the cresting sensation of Keith’s fangs nibbling at his bottom lip, at the sweep of his tongue, at the gentle curve of his smile. 

“Yeah,” he breathes, trembling. “Yeah, Keith.” 

Emboldened by Shiro’s response, Keith strokes into him. “Just relax,” he mumbles into the kiss, pressing inside Shiro, fingers hooking. “It can feel strange at first if you’re not used to it.” 

“Feels strange,” Shiro agrees, his grin betraying the exact opposite. He squirms happily, rolling his hips down to ride against Keith’s fingers. 

“I’ll make you feel good,” Keith promises, staring into Shiro’s eyes with such intensity. “Just be patient.” 

“Mm.” Shiro arches, setting a steady pace as he rolls down onto Keith’s fingers, squeezing around them— and maybe he should play at being coy some more, but there’s no point in it when it’s so clear that he loves this, that he loves being here with Keith. 

Shiro’s used to the feeling of fingering himself, of having something inside him, but it still feels strangely new in this body, when it’s Keith. The sensations spark through him as Shiro adjusts to the stretch and pull, to the way Keith curves over him like he’s ready to protect him. 

It’s perfect, blissful even, to have Keith inside him. Keith’s fingers are slim and sweet, but he’s determined and precise just as he is in all things: he moves inside Shiro, seeking the best position. His eyes stare into Shiro’s, assessing every little move he makes, making sure it’s perfect. 

It used to overwhelm Shiro to be the center of such intensity and devotion. He might not know what he’s done to earn Keith’s love, but he’s grateful to have it, always wants to treat it preciously. 

He focuses on the feeling of Keith drawing his hand back and thrusting his fingers back inside, trying to get the angle right. It’s clumsy at first, tugs at his rim in a way that should be uncomfortable, but even that sends Shiro’s heart fluttering. He must look moony, beaming up at Keith because he’s _perfect_ and he never wants to get enough of him. 

They move like that together. Shiro hitches his hips down to meet the stroke of Keith’s fingers, beaming when Keith finds his pace and confidence, twisting his hand and crooking his fingers, seeking. 

“Oh, _wow,_ ” Shiro stresses as he thrusts down against Keith’s fingers. His voice drips with honey and sweetness. “So _good._ I’ve _never_ felt anything like it.” 

He sounds ridiculous. He can’t help but laugh. Keith laughs, too, clearly embarrassed. “I think you’re overselling it, Shiro.” 

“Maybe a little,” Shiro agrees and kisses Keith quiet. 

There’s nothing artificial about the way he garbles a pleased moan when Keith’s nimble fingers find his prostate, punching sounds out of him. Keith’s a quick learner, an attentive lover, and the second he feels Shiro shuddering, hears the hitch of his breath, he repeats the movement again and again, brutal and precise and _perfect._

“ _Fuck,_ ” Shiro breathes. 

“Yeah?” Keith asks.

“ _Yes,_ Keith.” 

Shiro rolls his hips down, luxuriating in the blissful feeling of it, in the stretch of Keith’s fingers, the smooth slide of his fingertips against his prostate, the pleasant way Keith hovers above him, attentive and authoritative. 

Now that Keith’s found that certainty, he’s relentless and brutal with the way he touches Shiro, the way he drives him through that pleasure. The confidence rolls off him, his eyes half-lidded as he watches Shiro closely, documenting every little flicker of a reaction. 

They fall into a pace like that. Keith moves with confidence and Shiro’s there to sigh his pleasure, moaning Keith’s name and nodding his head when Keith finds a spot that works. Shiro knows he’s been stretched enough if Keith wanted to fuck him— hardly needs to be stretched, really, since he likes the way it feels to be entered without it— but he also loves the feeling of Keith’s sure fingers inside him, slim and narrow and delicate but determined, so strong and seeking. 

And it’s Keith. And it’s Keith there with him— every movement of his hips, stroke of his fingers, whatever, all of it there for Shiro. 

“Feeling okay?” Keith asks and Shiro isn’t sure if he’s asking for the sake of their stupid game or for any actual concern. Shiro’s sure his body must be singing with the way Keith plays him like an instrument. 

He smiles up at Keith, feeling floaty and serene, fucking down against Keith’s fingers. “So good. You’re so good, baby.” 

Keith blushes, barely muffling his grin as he twists his fingers inside Shiro, thrusting into him as a reward. It feels good and Shiro doesn’t try to disguise his pleased, jumbled moan as he arches into it, swiveling his hips to try to ply Keith’s fingers in deeper, so he’ll stroke over his prostate again. 

“Ruin me for anyone else,” Shiro tells him.

“Shiro,” Keith mutters, blushing and grinning. He must think that Shiro’s playing again, teasing. 

“No,” Shiro insists, grabbing at Keith and clinging. He rides Keith’s hand, his breath coming out in a rush. “ _Keith._ ” 

Shiro can’t describe how different it feels now. Maybe it is a consequence of a new body. Maybe he’s tricked himself into adopting the role he’s been teasing at for Keith. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s Keith himself. Shiro can’t recall ever coming on fingers before, but he finds himself chasing that feeling now— feels pleasure pooling and building in his gut. 

He nearly wants to reach for his cock and pull himself over the edge, but he resists. He focuses only on the push and pull of Keith’s fingers inside him, the steady pulse of pleasure within him. 

“Make me come,” Shiro begs. “Keith— baby—” 

Keith’s eyes are so dark, so radiant— he looks like a king bent over Shiro, all his focus and attention and love on Shiro. And as Keith keeps working, methodical and sure, Shiro feels himself arch, gasp out Keith’s name, and come over his stomach in shiny ropes. 

It ripples through him and he chases it. He hears Keith gasp, but it sounds far away. Shiro’s vision tunnels and his body zeroes in on the feeling of Keith inside him, stroking him. He’s loose and open and _ready_ , and the pleasure courses through him. 

He slumps once he comes back down, aching and open on the bed, and pants for breath. Pleasure pulses through him in steady rolls. He grins when he opens his eyes, seeking Keith— beaming with pride beneath Keith’s stunned but smug expression. 

“Wow,” he tells Keith and laughs when Keith dives at Shiro, kissing him senseless. 

“Fuck, Shiro,” Keith mumbles into the kiss, punctuating each syllable with a breathless kiss. “You’re so— you’re so fucking _hot._ ” 

Shiro laughs, shivering with the sensation and force of his orgasm, and tugs Keith down to kiss him harder. Shiro wants to kiss him until he goes numb with it, until he can’t feel his body at all except for where Keith touches him, for where they’re connected. 

Slowly, Keith withdraws his fingers and Shiro makes a soft sound because of that emptiness. He wants to come from Keith’s fingers again and again, wants to see just how many times Keith can make him fall over the edge like that, just like this. He wants to come again without a hand on his dick, wants to see just how Keith managed that. 

He pets his hand over Keith’s chest absently, just for the sake of feeling him. Keith smiles, expression helpless and lovestruck, and catches Shiro’s hand to kiss his knuckles. 

Shiro chuckles, weak and heart swelling. “God. You’re beautiful.”

“I could say that about you,” Keith says. “Do you know I used to convince myself that you must look ugly when you come, just so you’d have one flaw?” 

Shiro snorts. “I have flaws, Keith.”

Keith shakes his head, perfectly earnest when he says, “You’re perfect to me.” 

“ _Keith,_ ” Shiro whispers, hushed, and feels his heart kickflip in his chest. 

“You’re doing so well,” Keith says, his voice dropping into a deep, husky purr. He strokes his hand over Shiro’s hip, petting him. “So good for me, Shiro. Do you feel good?” 

“Good,” Shiro agrees. It should be ridiculous, but Shiro knows they’ve never been good actors— roleplay’s never really going to work for them— not when the earnestness of Keith’s praise and words shine through. Shiro catches Keith’s hand at his hip and draws it up, kissing his palm, then the tendons of his wrist, nuzzling. “You make me feel so good.” 

“Good,” Keith whispers, throaty and threadbare. Shiro wants to kiss him. He never wants to stop kissing him. 

“Fuck me,” Shiro murmurs, parting his legs further. 

Keith is there to catch him when Shiro rolls his hips up, cupping his ass and drawing him up into his lap. 

“You’re— you just came,” Keith says, fumbling again. “You’ll be too sensitive.” 

Shiro shakes his head. His entire life is oversensitivity now. He wants to live and breathe and feel Keith, always. 

“Want to come on your cock, Keith,” he murmurs. “Please, baby.” 

Keith shudders and squeezes his ass, then drags him in closer. 

“Okay,” Keith croaks, his pupils blown wide as he grasps at his cock and slicks himself up in a few perfunctory strokes, guiding the cockhead up to press against Shiro’s rim, already loose and open and slicked for Keith. 

“Oh, I’m nervous,” Shiro mutters, not even bothering to try acting. 

Keith laughs, the hand not gripping his cock squeezing Shiro’s thigh. “Just relax, Shiro.” Then, sounding exactly like a porn star— which Shiro suspects is where Keith’s getting his own acting tips— he says, “Be good for me and take all of me.” 

“Fuck!” Shiro says, embarrassed that the dumb dialogue would do something to his insides, leaving him all squirmy and pliant. He grasps at Keith’s hand and tangles their fingers together, tugging to try to bring him closer so he can kiss him. 

“Shh,” Keith soothes, squeezing his hand, and pushing the head of his cock inside Shiro’s body. “You’re doing so well.” 

Shiro barks a laugh, shaking his head. “This is really stupid, isn’t it?” 

“Kind of,” Keith agrees, and then Shiro’s laughing, too, and it’s a nice feeling to be lying there, his legs up and body spread open as Keith enters into him, his body heaving with laughter. It’s a strange sensation to feel Keith push inside him, the two of them caught in their laughter. 

Once Keith’s close enough, Shiro strains up to catch his smiling mouth with his, kissing him sloppy and needy. It’s hard to kiss him when Keith’s still chuckling, but he relaxes into it with a sigh, eventually, and kisses Shiro sweetly. 

“I love you,” Keith admits once they part for breath and his eyes are so big and so beautiful and Shiro wants to be lost in them forever.

Shiro loops his leg around Keith’s little waist, heel digging into the small of his back and coaxing him in deeper, wanting to feel Keith entirely. 

“I love you, too,” he answers, hand lifting to cup the back of Keith’s neck, fingers curling in his hair. “You feel so good.” 

Keith looks smug even as he laughs. “You deserve to have a good first time, Shiro.” 

Shiro snorts and kisses Keith again for his efforts. God, but he loves this man. With everything he is. 

“It is,” Shiro assures him, when really what he means is that it’s true— Keith is his first, his only, his last. Nothing else matters. They’ve been given a new start and they’re together now. 

He’s grateful for their ridiculousness, if only because Keith moves with confidence now, if only for the way Keith holds him and touches him, the way his lips tilt into a helpless smile as he stares down at Shiro and fucks into him. It’s perfect, and it’s what Keith deserves— to be confident, to be sure, to know the power he holds over Shiro. 

They move together like that, something soft and bubbly between them even as Keith rolls his hips back and pushes them forward, fucking into Shiro. Shiro sighs at each move, tilting his hips to change the angle, his hold on Keith firm and unrelenting. 

It feels blissful, it feels like music, the way they move together. He kisses Keith and feels Keith breathe his name, like worship, like a song, and Shiro never wants to stop feeling this, with him. 

For all that it matters, it’s their first time— together and separate, joined like this. Shiro has no memory of life without Keith, so it’s just as well. 

It almost feels like an afterthought when Shiro comes for the second time between them, giving a low, whimpering cry with how good it feels, how his body zings into oversensitive with each wave of pleasure that courses through him. Keith follows him through it, gasping at the way Shiro squeezes around him. He trembles and it takes only a few more pointed squeezes from Shiro’s body before Keith freezes up and comes inside him. 

And that, too, feels good— Shiro feels cosmic, infinite, over-full with Keith’s come inside him. He moans weakly as Keith fucks into him, as he trembles above Shiro and then collapses down to sprawl over Shiro’s chest. He pauses and then keens, tilting his chin up to seek Shiro for a kiss.

Shiro ducks his chin down to meet him, kissing him smooth and sweet. They lie like that together, Keith buried inside him, and kissing him with purpose.

“Shiro,” Keith whispers, reverently, and Shiro hums, his hands lifting to curl tight in Keith’s hair and cradle him close. They kiss and they kiss and they kiss. 

Once they part for air again, it’s just so Keith can huff a breath and nuzzle at Shiro’s jaw, eager to stay close. He gets cuddly after sex, it seems, and Shiro _loves_ that and loves that he now knows that. He indulges in Keith’s pleased attentions. 

“Was that okay?” Keith asks just as Shiro turns his head to ask the same thing.

Shiro chuckles, nosing at Keith’s cheek and kissing his jaw. “Baby,” he whispers, “Keith.”

It’s not an answer, but it seems to make Keith happy. He beams at Shiro and kisses him sweetly, humming when Shiro tugs on his hair to bring him in closer. 

“You were perfect,” Shiro assures him.

“You too,” Keith says, and then laughs. “Best I ever had.” 

Shiro laughs, too, and nudges their noses together. 

Keith hums and whispers, promising and heated, “And my only.”

“Yes,” Shiro agrees. 

Keith beams and kisses him again. It’s a brief kiss, broken by Keith just as quickly so he can duck his head, burying his face against Shiro’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. 

“God, I can’t believe that’s a thing for me,” Keith mumbles. 

“It’s cute,” Shiro assures him. Then adds quickly, “I really liked it, too.” 

“I could tell.” Keith drops a light kiss on Shiro’s chest, just above his heart, one hand rubbing up his side and resting on his chest, flicking over one nipple playfully. He smiles when Shiro sucks in a breath. 

“Keith,” Shiro says. He waits for Keith to look up at him, meeting his eyes when he says, “You’re the only one who matters. You’ll always be the only one for me.” 

Keith smiles then, shy and sweet, his eyes glittering. He lifts up to kiss Shiro again, pressing their foreheads together afterwards. He leans on his hands, caging Shiro in as he beams down at him. 

“You too, Shiro,” Keith murmurs. Then, smirking, he whispers, “But, oh, I’m a dumb virgin and I need a big strong man to fuck me for the first time to show me how it’s done. What’s lube? I’ve never heard of it, oh please help me.” 

Shiro snorts a laugh, wraps his arms around Keith, and rolls them over so that he’s pressing down against Keith instead.

“I might know _just_ the big strong man to help you with that.” 

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Keith answers, grinning, and drags Shiro down against his body.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject) (including the [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/commentbuilder)), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates responses, including:
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